The Other Batman
by Red1234
Summary: With Bruce Wayne traveling the world, Dick Grayson is left in charge of Gotham with Damian Wayne at his side.  Follow this adventure as he faces all that Gotham has to throw at him.
1. Chapter 1

**Don't own anything! Just love the characters and stories**

Update **I'm currently in the process of editing this story in hopes of finishing it, I got terribly caught up in real life. Pretty lame excuse, right?**

"Master Richard…" Alfred's voice wafted into his dreams.

"Master Richard, the sun is setting and the young Master Damian has been asking to spar for the last two hours".

The lines between dreamspace and reality blurred for a moment before Dick's mind focused. Coffee…Alfred…Damian. Damian. Remembering the unpleasant boy awaiting him in the bat bunker yanked Dick's brain back to full consciousness.

He felt the lingering soreness pull at his muscles as he sat up and stretched towards to the ceiling. It had been about a month since Bruce's return and their victory over Dr. Hurt and Professor Pyg. Gotham had been slowly recovering. It amazed him how resilient the people of Gotham were, life, business, and crime around the city were back to normal.

Bruce had jetted off to spread his idea of establishing Bat-posts and Bat-reps around the world. He had left Dick and Damian as Gotham's Batman and Robin, roles they had already assumed during Bruce's absence when he had been declared dead.

"Thanks, Aflie," Dick said as he accepted the cup of warm coffee and put it to his lips.

"I really must insist that you make haste to the bunker, sir. Master Damian is in quite the mood. Our population of practice dummies has dwindled to extinction lows."

Dick couldn't help but breathe a smile into his drink, "Of course, it's a rare day when we aren't treated to a mood." He stood up and ambled toward the shower, "Tell him I'll be down in five."

Dick heard Damian before he saw him. The boy was practicing his staff attacks against a rubber dummy. THWAK THWAK THWAK! THUMP! The dummy's head hit the floor and rolled towards Dick.

"Grayson! You are wasting valuable training time with your lethargy," said the dark-haired boy gripping the staff. His brow was shiny with sweat and crinkled with a scowl. Dick could see Bruce in this young man, from his piercing blue eyes to the intensity behind them, Damian was a Wayne.

"Well, it's good to see you too, sunshine." Dick stopped the rolling dummy head with his foot. "Damian, catching a few hours of sleep keeps this Batman bright-eyed and bushy tailed. Maybe a few more hours of sleep for you would turn that frown upside down."

With a quick wink and grin, Dick had the other staff and readied himself for Damian's attack. As the two circled left, Dick could see the gears turning in the boy's head. Quick as a flash, Damian swept right and was airborne. Dick saw from the corner of his eye the staff sweeping toward his right shoulder. As he leapt nimbly away, he admitted to himself that the boy was good; his attacks possessed finesse and style, probably the result of Talia's training. Dick brought his staff up to block Damian's next blow. He was strong too, for a ten-year old. Dick remembered when he had first started as Robin, he had been strong from his time as an acrobat, but he hadn't been quite at Damian's level—the boy had the strength of a warrior, albeit a warrior in training who still had some growing to do and needed to smile more.

Dick continued to dodge and block Damian's attacks; he was waiting for the right time to go on the offensive. He knew that Damian would grow frustrated after many of his attacks had been thwarted. The kid was a master fighter but his youthful impatience frequently still got the best of him. Dick planned to use this misstep as a teaching moment.

A few more sidesteps, another block, as Dick dipped to avoid an overhead blow, the large monitor of the main tech terminal lit up with a familiar code crossing the screen.

"Finally, some worthwhile pursuits on the horizon," Damian quipped, placing his staff back on the rack and grabbing a fresh towel from Alfred.

"Always good to see your face, Babs," Dick said, placing his own staff aside and walking toward the computer. He meant it too. Barbara Gordon was probably one of his closest friends. Yes, they had an interesting if not sometimes strained history, but she was one of those people Dick knew would have his and his entire family's back through thick and thin.

It didn't hurt that she was beautiful. Barbara had soft red hair and a lovely face but her eyes were what had always captivated Dick. They captured the intelligence and beauty of her soul. Dick shook his head to rid it of his extended Barbara thoughts, he knew this was a business call—Batman and Robin were needed!


	2. Chapter 2

**Don't own anything! Just love the characters and stories**

There were those nights when Dick loved to be out in his city. When patrolling as Batman, he could feel the electricity and pulse of the people around him surging through the night. Tonight, with the driving rain blowing in strong gusts in his face and obscuring his view of the Pollick Pharmacy, was not necessarily one of those nights.

Barbara, as Oracle the trusted information broker of the bat-clan, had given Dick a lead that led Batman and Robin to their current rooftop location. Several break-ins had occurred at the Pharmacy over the past week where high powered narcotics had been taken.

No, Dick thought. Not all nights were for stopping super villains from destroying the city. Some were for saving the citizens of Gotham from each other and themselves, and sometimes the weather sucked.

He glanced over at Damian. They had been on the roof for hours, the bank clock indicated it was close to midnight and there hadn't been any sign of anything moving in the Pharmacy since the clerk locked up at eight thirty.

Damian, as Robin, crouched a few yards away, holding a pair of thermal imaging binoculars. He had pulled his hood up to hold off the deluge pouring down from the sky. The weather kept the neighborhood quiet; the only people out on the streets were those who lived there and of course those who were up to no good.

Dick took a moment to stretch his eyes and scanned the surrounding buildings. To the right of the Pollick Pharmacy was a semi-dilapidated apartment building and to the left was a church thrift store. Not the seediest of streets or the most crime-ridden zip code, just part of another one of Gotham's neighborhoods where the hard working residents were trying to support their families and make better lives in the face of a corrupt city infrastructure and flagging economy.

Damian's fingers flicked the signal that he had seen movement inside the Pharmacy, east corner.

Dick took the lead. During the stakeout of the building, he had noted a side window hidden by a dumpster. This would serve as their entrance.

He leapt from their perch and for a few seconds as his body sailed toward the lamp pole that surged toward him, he felt that inexplicable high from being airborne, from flying.

His hands grasped the metal pole and he gracefully swung around it once to relieve his momentum before dropping to a crouch in the alleyway beside the Pharmacy.

Looking up he noticed Damian already in the alleyway smirking at him, "Getting old, Gramps".

Dick couldn't help but smile as he stood up and pushed back his cape, "As good as I feel, you'll be Robin for the next seventy years, kid. We'll have to get Alfred to size up that Robin tunic though, eventually". The more time he and Damian spent working together, the more of a team they had become. He liked to think that he and Alfred were rubbing off on Damian, getting him to loosen up a bit in life and crime-fighting.

Damian popped the screen from the window and slid it open; a dingy green employee bathroom greeted them. Once inside, Dick immediately heard noises coming from across the store. Signaling to Damian, they split up and made their way around the perimeter of the store to the back drug counter where whoever was back there was making quite a ruckus. It was strange, when looking at the shelves of drugs behind the counter, Dick didn't see any movement, just heard the rummaging noises. The guy must be sitting or kneeling down where the counter obstructed their view.

Damian rounded one side of the counter while Dick took the other. This was a whole new kind of perp, approximately four feet tall, thin, wearing overalls, and stuffing a backpack full of assorted pill bottles.

Dick cleared his throat. The child dropped the backpack and screamed, his large brown eyes wide as saucers as they looked from Batman to Robin.

"Aren't you a little young to be out this late alone?" Dick asked, softening his voice and stance just a bit. While the child in front of him appeared to be committing a crime, he also was acting like he had seen a ghost, which meant it would be more difficult to get information out of him.

"I…I…I'm," the boy started. When he noticed Damian taking a step toward him he stopped and dropped into a huddle next to his backpack, his wide eyes never leaving their masked faces.

Dick held up his hand to tell Damian not to go any closer. "I'm Batman, and this is my partner Robin. What's your name?"

"I'm…m..Titus," the boy stuttered.

"Well, Titus, what are you doing here at the Pollick Pharmacy so late?"

The boy's expression went from shocked to guilty immediately. "My mom's been real sick and she's hurting a lot and…" Dick heard the tears before he saw them.

"Titus, listen, I'm really sorry your mother's ill, but why are you taking things from the pharmacy?"

"We don't have any money, Batman. I just wanted to help my mom."

"I know you want to help your mom, but stealing is never the right answer, Titus. Have you been here other nights to get your mom medicine?"

"No!" the boy nearly shouted and then broke down into further tears and snuffling. "I'm sorry," he whispered, running his arm across his face to clear the waterworks.

Dick couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for the pitiful mess in front of him. He glanced at Damian whose brow was creased; he clearly didn't share in the sympathy.

Dick knelt down on one knee so that he was eye to eye with the child. "Alright, I'm going to cut you a deal Titus. This is a one-time only get out of jail free card. We're going to take you back home and you have to promise me you'll never do anything like this again."

"I promise, Batman, I promise!" Titus jumped up and emptied the contents of his backpack back onto the shelf.

Dick dropped Titus back on the balcony of his apartment in the building next door and after a few more questions, left him with a phone number for the neighborhood Wayne Charities and his best Bruce voice impression of, "Remember what I told you, Titus. I'll be watching."

The rest of the early morning hours were spent roping in and stringing up a pair of bank robbers for the Gotham City Police Department to lock up. With the dawn on the edge of the horizon, Dick and Damian set back to the bunker.

"We should have turned the kid over to the brass, Grayson," Damian said when they were back in the batmobile.

"No, we all make mistakes, and this kid clearly knew he did wrong. He's so young; he can still set himself straight. I believe in the people of this city, Damian." The bad apples in the city were pretty rotten and outsiders may consider the city unredeemable, but Dick liked to consider himself an eternal optimist. He looked for and hoped for the best in people, but was realistic and experienced enough not to expect it. "But if it assuages your worries, Damian, I put a link at the kid's apartment so we can keep tabs."

"Still, it's beliefs like yours that that have gotten people killed through the generations," Damian responded, not convinced. "Rose colored glasses aside, if you think the kids clean, we still don't know who broke into the pharmacy the previous nights."

"You're right. Oracle should be awake by the time we're…"

"Scratch that, Batman," came a female voice over the comm. "Sleep is for the weak. I've got info on your pill snatchers. Apparently, GCPD just busted a seven or eight year old kid raiding the Armstrong Pharmacy on 29th. Kid fed them the line that he needed the drugs for his sick sister, cops are taking him to juvie holding."

"Thanks, Oracle," Dick said, closing out the comm link. He could feel Damian's accusatory eyes on the side of his face.

"That kid fed you a bowl of poppycockery and you…"

"Hang on, Robin," Dick said, as he yanked the wheel around and the car drifted in a u-turn. "This night's not over yet."


	3. Chapter 3

**Don't own anything! Just love the characters and stories**

**Thanks to those of you who have reviewed and enjoyed, most appreciated**

Dick dropped Damian off at the precinct to begin questioning the suspect, with the explicit directions, "No crowbar".

Back down the wet, empty streets to the apartment building next to the Pollick Pharmacy. The rain had tapered off since Dick and Damian had been on the rooftop but the moisture still hung in the air giving the street lights halos. Since the flush of rain had stopped, the neighborhood smelled strongly of trash.

The curtains of the top floor unit where Dick had dropped Titus off earlier were pulled tight when he dropped gracefully onto the balcony. He scanned the buildings around him and the units next door; they were all still dark and quiet.

Maybe, just this once, the kid would be asleep in his bed the kid's parents who would be there and be cooperative and not pull a shotgun…

Finding the glass sliding door unlocked was strange but believable as it had been unlocked when he had watched Titus enter. Still, Dick was cautious as he quietly slid the door open. With his right hand he pulled back the thick curtains to step into the room. Just as the empty room before him came into view, the overwhelming odor of gas filled his nostrils and he felt a resistance in the curtains; followed by a clicking noise.

Crap.

Dick immediately pulled back out of the doorway and yanked the cape up in an attempt to shield himself from the sudden fiery burst. The intense heat pouring out of the building was shocking, but Dick was not about to stand there and be cooked. The fire followed him as he leapt from the balcony and shot a grappling hook to swing himself back to the rooftop across the way.

He had little doubt that the apartment had been empty at the time of the explosion and if it ever had had occupants, it was probably only used as some sort of cover for whatever nefarious deeds were afloat. The place hadn't been rigged to blow when Titus had entered earlier; somehow some related fire-happy individual had caught wind that Batman had been to the apartment and would probably be returning with further questions later. Dick looked back at the burning unit. He could hear the building's fire alarms blaring and saw tenants beginning to pour out into the street below.

Dick knew it was almost his cue to disappear into the shadows but first he had to make sure everyone was out of the dwellings that were beside the flaming apartment. Shooting the hook yet again, he swung to a balcony that neighbored the inferno.

One place clear, two places clear, three clear...

As he broke the lock on the front door to the fourth apartment and pushed it open, he was greeted by acrid black smoke. Sticking his oxygen mask over his mouth, he proceeded into the unit. While the other surrounding units were empty or appeared to be used as storage, this unit with its furniture, wall photos, and clutter was clearly someone's home.

Dick found the first bedroom empty but in the second, a large elderly man lay unmoving on the floor beside the bed. Dick quickly checked for a pulse and after taking a deep breath of air, placed the mask over the man's face. Hoisting the man's arm up over his shoulder, he hauled the man up off the ground and began to drag him towards the main room where he could get them both out via the balcony. Dick was strong, and by no means a small man, but the dead weight he was attempting to move had the height of a professional basketball player and the build of a retired wrestler. With his lungs aching and the heat and smoke intensifying, the progress being made was slow. Struggling forward, Dick couldn't help but think back to when he was younger and had thought Superman was the coolest person ever with his x-ray vision, flight, and strength and had wanted to be just like him. As he grew up under Bruce's wing and later ventured out on his own, he realized that he didn't need the super powers to make a difference in the world, but damn, wouldn't it be nice to bust the hell out of there right then.

Dragging the man out onto the balcony, he fastened a sort of harness—wrapping it around twice to make sure it wouldn't break under the stress of the man's weight. Carefully he hoisted the man over the railing and began to lower him to the ground.

When he felt the man's load lift he glanced down and saw the people on the ground had taken hold of the man and were untying the harness. Finally, Dick could feel the slack in the line and retracted it.

Shooting the grappling hook one last time, he jumped airborne and began moving across the rooftops to the alleyway where the batmobile was stashed.

As he uncovered it, he heard a small voice from a window above him, "Look, mom, it's Batman!" There was a time when he would have looked too, but wearing the cape and cowl that day, he gave the kid a quick grin and salute as he jumped into the car and started the engine. Revving it and shooting out into the street, Dick first hoped that Damian hadn't gotten himself into any trouble and second that he was having better luck at locating leads.

"How's he doing, Commissioner?" Dick asked, stepping forward out of the hallway shadows to stand next to Commissioner Jim Gordon who was watching Robin interview the child suspect.

"Batman, I didn't get an invitation to a BBQ," Gordon said, looking over his glasses at the slightly singed caped crusader.

"It was a surprise party," Dick responded, "Poor turnout, no snacks, over real quick."

"Well, I've been really impressed with this Robin of yours. I had some hesitations about sending him in there alone after last time. He didn't really make me feel any better when he started out with several fist slams and then by breaking one of my chairs but since then I think he's really gotten the kid to trust him."

Dick was sure the cowl would hide his surprised expression.

"And the information he's gathered, what do we have to go on?"

"Most of what the kid said was…"

The door to the interview room slammed shut. "Incoherent blabber," Damian finished. "But from what I could understand, there is definitely a bigger picture here. The child in there wasn't told much beyond, get the goods from the drugstore after hours and take them to a drop box."

"We weren't able to ID him either, Batman," chimed in the Commissioner. "He gave us an address when we busted him but the guys I sent over there to check it out said the whole top floor of the building had been torched".

"No, he's lived on the streets his whole life," Damian said, glancing back through the window at the suspect. "He said he got the drug money offer from a man in a dark hoodie the night before last. The guy gave him a hundred, directions to follow and a story, and offered him some more cash at the drop site. Kid said the guy had nice shoes".

"Did you get the location of the drop box?" Dick asked.

"Of course."

Dick could have sworn he saw the Commissioner suppressing a smile at Damian's attitude.

"We're trying to find some sort of guardian for the kid and we'll be filing formal charges so he's not going anywhere any time soon," Commissioner Gordon said as Dick and Damian took their leave.

"We'll be in touch, Commissioner."

As the dynamic duo made their way back to the batmobile and climbed inside, Dick spoke up, "I'm proud of the way you handled the situation at the station. Commissioner said you gained quite the rapport with the suspect."

"Someone's got to step up and get your job done for you when you're off gallivanting in the car."

"You know, Damian, maybe after we sort this all out, I can set you two up a play date," Dick grinned. "I'll spring for the juice boxes and Alfred can make brownies."

"I don't fraternize with criminals, Grayson," Damian responded, crossing his arms. "And must I remind you of the hundred ways I could kill you right…"

"Master Richard," interrupted Alfred's voice over the comm. "When should I expect you both back at the bunker?"

"On our way, Alfie," Dick responded. "Oh, and Alfred, Damian said something about having a hankering for brownies."


	4. Chapter 4

"I mean seriously, Alfred. Have you put thought into a side career in the dessert industry? I was just joking about brownies and BAM!" Dick gushed, pausing to swallow a huge bite of brownie. "Now I'm incredibly jealous of Bru…"

"Ahem," interrupted Damian, ripping a page off the printer tray and handing it to Dick. "I cross-referenced the drop site location street urchin #2 gave us and the address is for a pad-site just north of the park. It's probably no coincidence the Carnival was running there through last night."

As Damian spoke, Dick spun his chair back around to face the computer terminal wall. His fingers deftly typed in the locations from Damian's print out. "Did you run the reports on this carnival yet?" he interrupted.

"Well, if you'd let me finish I'd of told you there weren't any glaring markers for the carnival. No hits on it in any of the databases." Damian idly spun a batarang on finger as he walked in slow circles. "I also pulled an employee list that's still being run"

"Good work, Damian," Dick said distractedly, his focus on the screen in front of him and the information that flew past.

Damian's pacing continued for several quiet minutes before he came to a dead stop behind Dick and crossed his arms. "So?"

"No, do you?" answered Dick absentmindedly, not bothering to turn away from his work.

Damian sighed exasperatedly. "What is the plan?"

Dick finished up his typing and spun his chair back around, stretching his arms skyward. "It's almost noon, grab some food and sleep. We'll split up this evening; you'll be heading to the pad-site uptown and I'll be checking out the Carnival's new setup over on the River Street Pier."

"Why are we waiting until later? I could have this case solved by this evening" Damian muttered as he pulled on his mask and reached over to grab his cape.

"As much as I'd love to keep things moving in this case, some of us are still growing and need sleep. Unless you're cool with remaining three feet tall and thirty pounds..."

"Fine," Damian dropped the cape back over the chair, and stormed toward the hall.

"Get some sleep, Grayson, maybe your brain will finally grow in," he hurled back behind him before slamming the door.

A smile creased Dick's face as he bent down to pull off his boots. He clearly remembered back when he was Robin, and Bruce putting his foot down about him getting enough sleep. It had been a bit different Robin lifestyle for Dick than for Damian, as he had been enrolled in school as a child, something that Damian would never allow to happen.

Dick set the boots back in place below the cowl and cape and took a moment to stretch out his back. He had a few more hours of work he wanted to get done before evening patrol including touching base with Bruce on the happenings in Gotham, going through the results of the carnival employee database scan, and checking the police feeds for last twenty-four hours.

Stifling a yawn, he sank back down in the computer chair and flicked the screen back to life. There was something that really bothered him about the street children he had encountered that day being wrapped up in some sort of criminal activity. They were so young and with the only opportunities they received coming from crooks, how did they ever stand a chance? Dick propped his arm up against the dash panel and rested his head against his palm. The employee database scan was just 30 percent finished. He pulled open the police feeds on the screen and began to page through them. Feeling the tiredness pull at the back of his eyes, he leaned back in the chair and shut his eyes. Just a few minutes with his eyes closed would help him get through the police logs…


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I still have a chunk of editing to do, but wanted to get this up before I forgot. Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to read and thank you for the reviews! **

The beep of the comm-link yanked Dick from the pleasant obscurity of his dreams.

"Time to rise and shine, Junior," came a female voice over the speakers. Warm memories flooded back to Dick and he smiled; that was one voice he wouldn't mind waking up to again every morning.

"Junior, eh?" he asked, opening his eyes to see Oracle's ID code scroll across the screen.

"Junior Batman. You know, Bruce being back and all." Despite her attempts to sound serious, Dick heard the edge of playfulness to her voice and sensed a grin on Barbara's face. "Or we could go with Deputy Batman if you'd prefer."

"Whatever you say, Barbie."

"Whoa there, Dep. Let's not start using offensive language"

Dick grinned. "Just so you know, Lil G, whether I get a badge or not will probably make a big difference in my name choice."

Barabara laughed. "All right, Dick. As much as I'd love to sit around and discuss what a terrible rap name Lil G would be…"

"We could arrange that on Saturday night if you'd like," Dick interrupted, a note of mischievous in his voice as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the console.

"We could," echoed Barbara, her voice much quieter than before. The comm-link crackled in the silence that then enveloped the room. The fleeting thought crossed Dick's mind that he'd overstepped.

Barbara sighed and when she spoke again, her voice had switched back to that of Oracle. "I caught the four o'clock print database update from the morgue. That kid that was brought in earlier from Armstrong Pharmacy, that Damian was questioning…."

"Shit." Dick rested his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his hair. "He's dead?" This wasn't an entirely unexpected development as the kid seemed to have been running with some sort of criminal element, but he still hated to see children caught in the cross-fire of what was more than likely an adult's sickness or greed.

"They pulled him out of the river below the 15th street docks, throat slit and missing several organs."

_Organs?_ Dick unlocked the computer console and pulled open the database report Barbara had sent to read the details on the corpse. "I thought the Commissioner said they'd have this kid locked-down."

"They kept him at the station as long as they could before a case worker stepped in and forced the transfer to Juvie. Apparently he put the slip on two uniforms at a rest stop bathroom." Barbara sighed. "Kid climbed out the window and ended up dead in the river."

As the map of south Gotham populated itself on the screen in front of him, Dick saw that it was as he had suspected, the location where the kid's body was pulled was not too far downstream of the Riverstreet Pier.

"Got anything else for me?"

"Not at the moment. I'm working a few leads and I'll let you know if anything pops on the wire."

"Thanks, Babs."

"How are things going with your partner?"

Dick was opening his mouth to respond when he heard the Bunker door slam and the incoming pounding of feet. Spinning his chair around to find the sour-faced Damian staring him down, Dick answered, "Oh, he's delightful as always."

"Oracle," Damian greeted.

"Damian."

"I presume that you two were planning the next stage of attack without me." Damian's arms settled in the crossed position. "Must I remind you both that I'm a master of…" Damian's eyes settled on the police report that was open on the console and skimmed down it. "Ah, I see Gotham's finest failed to protect our suspect."

Sensing an unpleasant remark on its way from Barbara, Dick stood up and walked over to grab his boots. "Suit up Robin, we've got places to be, people to see."

Damian's forehead scrunched together. "I hardly think that qualifies as a plan, Grayson."

Damian was surprisingly efficient at donning his suit. When Dick stood back up from pulling on his boots and looked over his shoulder, Damian was standing in the same cross-armed position as before, just now dressed as Robin with his hood pulled up. Dick wouldn't have been terribly surprised if Damian had added suit-up time-trials to his training regimen.

"Take the bike and head up to the pad-site location you got off the dead kid, see what you can find. I'm going to check out the pier. I'll have the results of all the scans and reports sent to the vehicle onboards. Keep the comm-link open at all times to Oracle and myself, and I'll give you the latest…" The Bunker door slammed and Dick glanced over to find himself alone in the room.

He sighed. "Having a Robin has aged me ten years, Babs. Was I ever this bad?"

Barbara's light laughter once again filled the room. "It's like Damian said, Dick. He's mastered many things."

Dick couldn't help but smile as he pulled on the cowl.

"Just remember that as bad as he is now, he's still got his teen angst years ahead of him."

Dick groaned, "Thanks for the perspective, Oracle."

It was quiet as Dick secured his cape and utility belt.

"Be safe out there, Batman." Surprised, Dick glanced up at the console, figuring that Barbara had closed the link already.

"Always," he responded, pulling on his gloves and heading for the door himself. Just before he crossed the threshold out of the room, he threw back over his shoulder, "Oh, and Babs, I meant it about Saturday night. Let me know."

Dick wasn't entirely sure what Barbara's response would be and didn't wait around to find out. With the ever changing criminal and political climate of the city, there weren't many certain things in Gotham that he or anyone else could count on. Firing up the car and switching on the onboard computer system, he felt a familiar exhilaration race through his body. There was one thing Gotham could have faith in, and that was him, he was Batman.

To be continued…


End file.
